Quote:

Epitaph of Leonard P. Matlovich, decorated American soldier and a crusader for gay rights.

"When I was in the military they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one."

Mr. Matlovich was awarded a Purple Heart and A Bronze Star for service during the Viet Nam War. He died in 1988, after a long battle with AIDS.

Of The Day:




The Naupaka Flower (Scaevola sencea), from Hawaii

excerp for HawaiiAloha.com
One of Hawaii's most famous legends is built around naupaka, a shrub found in the mountains or near the beach. The flower's unique appearance (it resembles a half-flower, with petals missing) caused early Hawaiians to believe it was the incarnation of an ancient native separated from her lover.

In ancient times, one version goes, there was a beautiful Hawaiian princess known as Naupaka. One day, the villagers noticed that Naupaka looked very sad. They told her parents, who approached Naupaka and asked her what was troubling her.

"I have fallen in love with a man named Kaui," replied the princess. "But Kaui is not of noble birth, he is a commoner." According to Hawaiian tradition, it was strictly forbidden for members of royalty to marry people from the common ranks.

Distressed, Naupaka and Kaui traveled long and far, seeking a solution to their dilemma. They climbed up a mountain to see a kahuna who was staying at a heiau (temple). Alas, he had no clear answer for the young lovers. "There is nothing I can do," he told them, "but you should pray. Pray at this heiau."

So they did. And as they prayed, rain began to fall. Their hearts torn by sorrow, Naupaka and Kaui embraced for a final time. Then Naupaka took a flower from her hair and tore it in half, giving one half to Kaui. "The gods won't allow us to be together," she said. "You go live down by the water and seek your fortune, while I will stay up here in the mountains and pray for us to be united."

As the two lovers separated, the naupaka plants that grew nearby saw how sad they were. The very next day, they began to bloom in only half flowers.

Of The Day.

I was trying to tell L. the other day about the art in the Borghese Gallery in Rome. And she wasn't really listening bc she was studying and I wasn't really doing a good job decribing the glory of those Bernini marbles cause well, I'm me. But then I just had to see a picture of the Rape of Proserpine, b/c while everyone is crazy about the David and everyone is crazy about the Apollo and Daphne, there was no contest for me. It was Proserpine all the way. So I have to pose this detail. It seems cheap to post a detail which far from captures the strength and motion of the piece but I thought this looked right.



Some one carved that out of marble. It isn't actually flesh. I had a hard time believing it after i stared at the thing for nearly twenty minutes in person. I still have a hard time believing it. It actually looks like if you reached out to touch her you would touch soft skin.

Bernini you are a god.

Of The Day.

The Tanukis.

This creature is actually a member of the Canine family, which means that like foxes and wolves it is essential a dog/dog like animal. And yet, in an invesitgation done by the American Animal Humane Society 19 out of 26 coats sold in major mall and department stores with labels "faux fur" actually have trim made out of the pelt of the tanukis. That's actually kind of sick. But wait, it gets even worse. Apearently the nature of the fur or some kind of sick industrial protocol actually demands that the fur be skinned from the animal while it is still alive.

This cruelty is nearly incomprehensible to me. I mean, I can understand the necessity of killing an animal in order to eat it. In such cercumstances I would still require that the animal be raised humainly and then killed with respect, dignity, and as little pain as possible. But to kill something just to satisfy a whim of fashion. To kill something so horrifically for clothing. When the people buying it think they are buying fake fur, what is the point?

The only solution is to create a Tanukis Liberation Strike Team. Must try to get L. to let me buy one.

Living the Post-War Dream

Can't stop,
lose job,
mind gone,
silacon,
what bomb?
get away,
pay day,
make hay,
eat fish,
break down,
need fix,
big six,
kick kick.
Oh, No!
Bingo.
brain dead,
lose head,
tv,
freebee,
nice ride,
suicide,
fall back,
no slack,
lost friend,
meet end.

When you're one of the few to land on your feet,
What do you do to make ends meet?
Make 'em laugh.
Make 'em cry.
Make 'em dance in the aisles.
Make 'em pay.
Make 'em stay.
Make'em feel ok.

Make 'em mad.
Make 'em sad.
Make 'em add two and two.
Make 'em me.
Make them you.
Make them do what you want them to.
Make them laugh.
Make them cry.
Make them lie down and die.

Take me now, a shelter be, before there's nothing left of me.

Balladen om herr Fredrik Åkare och den söta fröken Cecilia Lind



Från Öckerö loge hörs dragspel och bas och

fullmånen lyser som var den av glas.

Där dansar Fredrik Åkare kind emot kind

med den lilla fröken Cecilia Lind.


Hon dansar och blundar så nära intill,

hon följer i dansen precis vart han vill.

Han för och hon följer så lätt som en vind.

Men säg varför rodnar Cecilia Lind?



Säg var det för det Fredrik Åkare sa:

Du doftar så gott och du dansar så bra.

Din midja är smal och barmen är trind.

Vad du är vacker, Cecilia Lind.



Men dansen tog slut och vart skulle dom gå?

Dom bodde så nära varandra ändå.

Till slut kom dom fram till Cecilias grind.

Nu vill jag bli kysst, sa Cecilia Lind.



Vet hut, Fredrik Åkare, skäms gammla karln!

Cecilia Lind är ju bara ett barn.

Ren som en blomma, skygg som en hind.

Jag fyller snart sjutton, sa Cecilia Lind.



Och stjärnorna vandra och timmarna fly

och Fredrik är gammal och månen är ny.

Ja, Fredrik är gammal men kärlek är blind.

Åh, kyss mig igen, sa Cecilia Lind.

Of the Day,

The National O style single cone guitar, made by National Steel



Only the most beautiful guitar in the invention of man. National has many beautiful steel guitars, but this one really is the tops.

Down There By The Train- Tom Waits

There's a place I know where the train goes slow
Where the sinner can be washed in the blood of the lamb
There's a river by the trestle down by sinner's grove
Down where the willow and the dogwood grow

You can hear the whistle, you can hear the bell
From the halls of heaven to the gates of hell
And there's room for the forsaken if you're there on time
You'll be washed of all your sins and all of your crimes
If you're down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

There's a golden moon that shines up through the mist
And I know that your name can be on that list
There's no eye for an eye, there's no tooth for a tooth
I saw Judas Iscariot carrying John Wilkes Booth
He was down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
He was down there where the train goes slow

So if you live in darkness and if you live in shame
All of the passengers will be treated the same
And old Humpty Jackson and Gyp the Blood will sing
And Charlie Witman is holding on to Dillinger’s wings
They’re both down there by the train

Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

If you've lost all your hope, if you've lost all your faith
I know you can be cared for and I know you can be safe
And all the shamefuls and all of the whores
And even the soldier who pierced the side of the Lord
Is down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

Well, I've never asked forgiveness and I've never said a prayer
Never given of myself, never truly cared
I've left the ones who loved me and I'm still raising Cain
I've taken the low road and if you've done the same
Meet me down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

Meet me down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there by the train
Down there where the train goes slow

I would Like to include a post about Raoul Wallenberg.
Actually I think this comes at a fitting time, i only discovered him today, and yesterday (ironically) was Canada's "Raoul Wallenberg Day".
They are right to have such a day. I feel that Wallenberg is not really recognized in the U.S. Schindler has been immortalized here in film, and rightly so, he was a great man. And his story is intriguing for other reasons. He (Schindler) was not a charitable man, and he found humanity by doing good when it presented itself to him and made a great success, saved lives and was recognized for it. And there is a kind of glow of success or confidence about his story.
The Wallenberg story is a different one and touches a different note. He was not an ingenious man, not a successful or confidant man. And he has an aura of desperation and near failure. He very much represents the direness of the situation in a way which Schindler seems only to represent the hopeful. And yet...
There is something so very much more real to me about Wallenberg. His was a very real hardship in a way Schindler's was not. His was a very real danger and real effort, a real humanitarian effort, and a real sacrifice. He was Swedish, and he left Sweden, he was wealthy and he left behind wealth and protection. He went into the most hellish of places when no one had asked it of him, when he gained nothing, when everyone told him to leave, when he had every opportunity of leaving, and he said- I will die before I stop doing every single thing that I can possibly think of to put myself between the murderer and his victim.

I would rather like to write a book about this man. I want it to be as successful and as read as Keneally's tribute to Oscar Schindler. I want the name Wallenberg to be on the tongues of Americans.

Raoul Wallenberg

The Thylacine



The Thylacine was the worlds only preadatorial marsupial. It is now largely accepted as extinct. Although I suppose with the rediscovery of the Ivory Billed woodpecker after its supposed extinction anything is possible. However such subterefuge survival is more unlikely with an animal of the Thylacine's size and hunting habits. Also known as the "tasmanian Tiger" it was hunted by bounty hunters on the island of Tasmania for bounties posted by local sheep farmers, though recent studies show that the farmer's fear of the thylacine as a sheep killing predator was probably misfounded and that feral dogs possed the real local threat. This all happened around the turn of the century. A well researched and hightly insightful chapter about the thylacine can be found in David Quamen's Song of the Dodo.

The "Of the Day"

Art Greenspons "Primavera Vietnam"



This is a classic of Vietnam era journalism.
I also highly suspect it is the inspiration behind the cover of Oliver Stone's "Platoon"

My "Of the day"

Afghan coal miner by Steve McCurry.



Should think about buying his beautiful book "Looking East" even though it doesn't have all of the amazing pictures that appeart on his website, www.stevemccurry.com.